Sorry It Had To Be You
by sweet as an elf
Summary: A museum curator and a professional thief have unfinished business to take care of. Sequel to Where the Horses Run Wild.


She rubbed her latex hands together before she picked up the wooden figurine. It was a sculpture of a pharaoh. He was half naked, his figure well defined and every detail worth mentioning was carved into the wood. Naia wondered if the reason why she liked ancient Egyptian art so much was because they knew how to show off their men. This particular one was striking.

She picked up a fine brush and started with his feet. She had taken him out of storage, along with a few other artifacts the museum had collected from his era. Over time, despite the constant climate they were kept in, the wooden objects had accumulated a thin layer of crystal dust that, according to their resident chemist, came from the natural salts the wood had accumulated throughout the years. "It's solidifying itself," he had stated quite confidently.

After she dusted him off, Naia put him in a glass case designed just for him. It was two feet tall and about one foot wide with a square base. The bottom was a flowy, gold velvet that molded to the pharaoh's feet. When a soft, yellow light hit the figure from above, the effect was ethereal. Naia imagined that if he was watching from somewhere above, he would know the honor that was granted to him through his display.

Also, once she closed the case from the bottom, the whole thing would become hermetically sealed. The security device of the box would activate, the pressure sensors would turn on and it would upload its feed wirelessly to the museum's mainframe security system.

Naia waited for the beep that told her all of this was complete. She picked up the entire thing, which was quite light despite its size and its technology and took it to its exhibit site on the museum floor. The stand they had prepared just for the pharaoh was designed to keep the artifact safe and make it virtually impossible to steal. Once she put the glass box on the stand, metal fasteners sprang up that attached to the side of the box. Once attached, they locked in place by themselves. The stand had its own pressure sensors so that, even if someone as much as nudged the box, the silent alarm system would trigger and the entire security system would go on alert.

Naia smiled. Most of that had been her idea. She had learned a thing or two from her last brush-up with museum thieves.

The pharaoh was the most valuable thing they had displayed in years. It would attract a lot of attention and she was particularly weary of raids. Last time, she had been careless with the displays, refusing to believe that anyone would be stupid enough to steal the artifacts for their value. Now she knew better.

She was just throwing out her gloves when her Blackberry buzzed merrily on the worktable. The picture of a man with a warm smile and a mess of dark curls appeared on the screen.

"Adam," she said in Arabic, her American accent still distinct despite all the years of talking the language, "I'll be out in a few minutes. When did you get here?"

"Just now, darling, no need to rush. I made reservations for later. There's plenty of time."

She was so glad to hear his voice. He had been away on a business strip. Today was their six month anniversary.

* * *

The sound of the safety being turned off on a semi-automatic is unmistakable. The click of it is loud. In punctures the air like no other sound. And then, what comes after, well no one can forget that.

The shooter was a bit of a lousy shot. Eliot had to admit, he got lucky on that one. He waited until it was reloading time.

The man behind the gun got to see a rare thing. The calm, almost Zen look on Eliot's face as he charged, full force towards him.

He was quick and precise. With one hand he got rid of the gun, threw a punch in the gut with another and a right elbow to the back of the head to disable his opponent. Every move had its purpose. Not one ounce of energy was wasted.

* * *

"You told me once," Adam said over dinner, "That you went back to America after you moved here. How come you did not want to stay there for good?"

Naia chewed on a piece of lettuce before she looked up to answer him, carefully considering how to word her response. "I only went there to look for something. Then I came back."

"What were you looking for?"

* * *

She remembered driving up a winding, dirt road in the dry, Texas climate. The Spencers and their ranch of horses had been easy enough to find with the help of the internet and a few 311 calls once she landed in Texas. As it turned out, they owned about a dozen horses which were allowed to roam free in the forest behind the ranch, also owned by the Spencers. In total they had a few thousand acres of land which they used only as a playground for their adored equines. She had been able to learn all of this from a local bar owner where she'd stopped for a bite to eat.

She remembered the smell of horse manure as she killed the engine and got out of the car. A tall, thin young man came out from around a big, white house and introduced himself as the helping hand of the horse barn. She had no idea what that meant but then he politely asked her what her business was there.

"I'm looking for Eliot Spencer." She had said, kicking herself for even thinking of doing this.

"Senior or junior?"

"Junior... I think." She squinted in the sun.

"Right this way," the boy had said, walking past her and towards a large, wooden building that she later learned was the stables.

She remembered how her knees had trembled as she had reluctantly followed the young man. Of course she hadn't actually thought she would find him.

The smell of manure got stronger as she walked up the small hill after the boy. Something else was mixed with it too. One quick look to the side of the building and she discovered what it was. Fresh cut hay. Her butterflies intensified.

"Hey Eliot, there's someone here to see you."

There was no reply for a long time. The helping hand of the horse barn apparently had better things to do than wait around with Naia. He disappeared before she could thank him for helping her out.

"Who is it, Jacks?" someone shouted from the back of the stables. A nearby horse neighed loudly, startling Naia. She looked at the creature, momentarily taken aback by its beauty. Its mane was light brown with a white star on its forehead. Naia couldn't bring herself to answer the voice.

"Jacks?" she could hear the voice closer now, and she was starting recognize its timbre. "Who is it?"

Her eyes were still glued on the brown mare when he finally came into view.

His footsteps stopped. She turned and there he was. For a moment, everything stood still. There were no sounds, almost as if nobody breathed. As if the horses were holding their breath in anticipation.

"No," she heard him breathe out, as if he was doubting what was right in front of him. "Naia?"

The sound of her own name snapped her back to reality. And he was still there. She forced her legs to move, to go to him. To her surprise, they obeyed.

There was a frown between his beautiful eyes, even as she got close enough to touch. She put a hand on his shoulder, smiling. "Hi, Eliot."

"What are you doing here?" he asked, but she didn't get a chance to answer. His dirt stained hands went around her waist and he pulled her close, apparently no longer in shock.

* * *

"Nothing important," she told Adam, taking a sip of her white wine. "I think I was looking for a confirmation that I made the right choice in staying here, in Cairo, permanently."

"Well, I am glad you decided to come back to us." He leaned over the table and gave her one of his warm, lingering kisses. "Happy anniversary, my love."

She kissed him back, refusing to think about the past.

* * *

"Eliot Spencer, you are fool if you don't marry this girl."

"Marcie, darling, mind your own business." Eliot Sr. smiled at his wife from across the dinner table.

Naia had been staying with the Spencers for almost a month now. She didn't miss Eliot's sheepish smile as he plucked a few desert grapes into his mouth. It was probably best to ignore the subject matter anway.

"Well kids, dinner was fun and all, but me and Mr Spencer here have a Bingo match that we'd better get to." She motioned to her husband. "Try not to burn the house down while we're gone."

Naia waived at them as they got up from the table. "We'll try."

As soon as he heard the wheels of the pick-up truck on the dirt road, his mouth connected with hers. "I love Bingo night," he muttered under his breath as he carried her to the couch.

She couldn't stop giggling as he tore her clothes off with a mock hungry look in his eyes. "You're miiine tonight, baby."

Her giggles stopped short when he put his thumb on that special spot of hers and kept it there. She felt her skin begin to flush with anticipation and excitement. "Eliot, what do you think you're doing?"

He moved his thumb a little, keeping a slow and steady rhythm. "Just showing you how we do it in Texas, that's all."

"How you do it in Texas? Is there something special about Texas?"

He applied just a little bit more pressure, causing her to grab onto his shoulders and hold on for dear life. "Yes, bubba, there is."

* * *

A week after her six month anniversary with Adam, the museum opened up its new exhibit. As predicted, news about the pharaoh brought in more volume of visitors than the museum had seen in years.

"I have a surprise for you tomorrow," Adam informed her that night as they went to bed. "I have an activity planned, and I think you will love it."

She kissed him good-night and closed her eyes, exhausted from the long day at the opening.

The next day she got into his Land Rover and he drove her to the outskirts of town, back to the pyramids she had left behind the other day. She didn't know whether to be horrified or delighted when he turned right before reaching the pyramids, heading for the tourist stable yard.

"I've booked us two horses," he informed her proudly, "and a guide is going to take us through the desert to show us its wonders. It is going to be wonderful, don't you think?"

"Yes it will," she said, now fully convinced that she had every reason to be absolutely horrified. "But why can't we take camels?"

"Camels are slow. Where's your sense of adventure?"

* * *

"I want to show you something," Eliot whispered in her ear as she groomed her favorite mare in the Spencers' barn, Starcrossed. "Saddle up."

"What's going on?" Naia asked him as she fastened a saddle on Starcrossed and threw her leg across the horse.

Eliot led the way out of the barn on Ash, a very proud, gray horse who wouldn't let anyone but Eliot ride him. He made a small snicker of annoyance as he passed by Starcrossed.

"We're gonna go run," Eliot told her as he they went back behind the barn and into the open field. "I know the perfect spot."

It was about noon when they set out. They kept a walking pace until they reached the forest and Eliot spurred Ash to go a little faster. He had them cross the forest and when they reached the very edge of it, he stopped.

"Are you ready?" he asked Naia.

Starcrossed let out a frustated puss of air, obviously impatient for her fun to begin. Naia could tell how eager she was by the way her neck muscles twitched as she gazed out across the clearing, seeing nothing but the untrodden expanse of land that lay beyond. The air was dry and cool, perfect for a race.

Naia nodded, grabbed the reins tightly and braced herself for the pull of the horse as she started out into a full on gallop. Ash came up right behind them. The closer he got to her rear, the faster Starcrossed ran.

They didn't go very far when Naia noticed that there was more forest right in front of them. Before she could really register what was happening, her horse was turning, as if the clearing had been made into a grassy racetrack complete with sharp turns and tricky terrain. Starcrossed seemed unfazed by the change, almost as if she had done this a million times before.

Naia could feel her thigh muscles begin to ache from the tight grip she kept on the mare. Up ahead, a new sound penetrated the whizzing of the wind that flooded her ears - it was the sound of running water.

Icy droplets splashed her face as Starcrossed ran at full gallop into the stream that split the forest in two. She stopped right in the middle, the water reaching up just above the horse's knee.

"She's not going to move until you get off her," Eliot informed her as he dismounted Ash, who calmly went looking for some grass, unimpressed by the day's activities.

Naia gave him a mean look as she landed in water and noticed that Starcrossed was right behind her as she walked back to the bank. "Unbelievable."

"It's alright, you look good wet."

She threw a light punch at his chest as they settled on a patch of grass and took in the scenery.

The blue sky was reflected in the stream, with the edges of the maple forest framing the image. The trees were occupied with catering to the noisy birds and busy squirrels. Eliot turned to Naia, his eyes bluer than the sky. "I love you," he said simply.

For a moment, she forgot to breathe.

* * *

The desert was hot and bright as they set out on their trip. Naia and Adam both sat on two beautiful geldings, who trotted the sand as if it was fresh cut grass.

Naia made sure her hat sat securely atop her head as they followed a trail through the sand. "We will get to the dunes in about an hour. You will see, they are magnificent," said their guide.

Adam gave her a bright smile as he came up next to her. "Did you hear that, we will see dunes!"

As they went deeper and deeper into the desert, the piles of sand on either side of the trail got taller and taller. She took a sip of water as they began to really climb the sand. She had never told Adam about her last trip in the desert. She never told him how she almost crossed the entire thing on her own when a rider on a black horse interrupted her course.

"If you look ahead, you will be able to see the dunes. You should know that they do not look the same in any one year. The wind changes them yearly. Lately, as you will see, they have begun to take slightly irregular sizes due to the new winds coming in from the north. The climate change is causing new currents in the atmosphere, changing the landscape of our beloved Sahara. Now, let's stop for a moment." He pulled the reins on his horse. "I want you to turn around and tell me what you see."

Weary, Naia stopped and turned her horse. She could see the pyramids from here, in all their splendor set against the pale blue sky with the city of Giza sprawled behind them. It really was quite beautiful.

"It is written on one of the walls of the great pyramid that this path, the one we are following right now, used to be a favorite refuge for the pharaoh's youngest wife, Queen Henutsen."

He turned his horse around and continued to follow the trail. As they neared the dunes it began to descend. It took them through a row of large dunes. Most looked like they were trying their mightiest to mimic the shape of the pyramids that overshadowed the entire desert with their power and their wonder. Small gusts of wind whispered around them, each emitting a different pitch of sound as they hit against the large walls of sand.

The trail went up again, this time on what seemed like an actual dune, though this was of the more permanent kind since it was made to withstand the wind. They could see the desert clearly now - just mounds of sand stretching out as far as the eye could see. Their guide stopped again, instructing them to take a few quiet breaths and just appreciate the calm.

Naia looked out at the dunes, squinting against the bright sun. A small, dark figure appeared in the distance. As if sensing her brief moment of surprise her horse took a few steps back, attempting to let its rider know that it wanted to leave this place. Naia patted his neck and let the guide take them through the rest of the trail, eager to have this over with.

Two stable hands came to take their horses away once they got back, but Adam insisted that they wanted to put the horses in the stalls themselves. "I want to see the other animals," he told her.

The scent of horse was strong as they neared the stables building. Naia tried her best not to breathe.

"Hush, Baariq," she heard the voice of a young man as the horse next to him tried to move away. "Let's go," he said in Arabic. The horse let out a whinny and the ground shook a little as he stomped on it with his front legs. "What's the matter?" the boy asked him, "What do you want?"

Naia felt a whiff of warm air caressing her back. A pair of large, black eyes stared right at her when she turned around. "Buck?" she whispered breathlessly in English as she put a hand on the bridge of his nose. "Is it you?"

There was no mistaking his figure - he was clearly of Iranian descent. He was black throughout although his mane was a little shabbier than she remembered.

"I'm sorry Miss, he is not behaving well today."

"Does he ever behave well?"

The boy smiled. "No, he does not."

"I did not think so. What did you say his name was?"

"Baariq, the bright one. Would you like to take him for a ride? I would not recommend it, but he seems quite taken with you."

"No. I do not think he likes to be ridden."

"He doesn't, but I've noticed something peculiar about him." The boy let go of the reins, as if to prove his point. "He tends to pick his riders."

"Is that right?"

"Yes Miss. There is a man, he doesn't visit very often, but he always chooses Baariq and the horse doesn't seem to mind."

Naia sighed as she ran her hand through the horse's mane. "Is this man American?"

"He is. How did you know?"

"Some Americans seem to have a way with horses, don't they? I am an American and look, he likes me."

The boy smiled but he looked at her with his sad and understanding eyes as if he knew her secret. As if he knew that the American wasn't just any man.

"Maybe I will come back for Baariq some day soon. Will you take care of him until then?"

The young man nodded. Naia gave the horse a last caress before she walked away. She decided to wait for Adam in the car.

She didn't realize that Baariq stared after her for a long while before he let the young man lead him back to his stall.

* * *

She had been living with the Spencers for almost two months when she woke up one morning to find that the bed was empty. Eliot was not there.

"He's gone away on a job," Marcie informed her at breakfast. "Don't be alarmed dear, he does this sometimes. He likes to keep these things super secret sometimes, as if we're gonna follow him one day to find out what he's up to. He always comes back though, so don't you worry. How do you feel about picking strawberries with me this afternoon?"

Naia picked strawberries every afternoon with Marcie for a week before Eliot came back. Another whole week passed before she decided to speak to him again.

"Where were you?" she asked him over a basket of dry corn that Marcie had instructed her to strip.

His eyebrows came together as he looked up from the dismembered shotgun he was cleaning for Eliot Senior. "Didn't Marcie tell you? I was away on a job."

"And you couldn't be bothered to at least tell me you were going before you left?"

"I didn't want you to start thinking things."

She looked back down at the corn, removing each kernel individually.

"Naia, God, I just didn't want to upset you. I didn't want to ruin the perfect time that we've been having."

"I think I need to go back home."

"I thought this was your home now."

She shook her head. "We both know I came here on a wild hunch. I wasn't expecting anything to actually happen. And," she said as she finished off the last of the corn, "I don't actually know anything about you. I know who your parents are and what they do and how they live, but that's got nothing to do with who you are now. I'm well aware that I haven't exactly tried to really find out anything about you, but I figured that bits and pieces will eventually come out. That's what happens with normal people when you spend every waking hour with them for seven weeks. You, on the other hand..." she put down the basket and washed her hands in the sink. "With you, I got nothing. I'm sure that's because you didn't want me to know."

"You're right," he said after a while.

"I guess it's just the way you are. I'm not asking you to change." She leaned back against the counter and crossed her arms in front of her chest. "The other day, you told me you loved me. Did you mean it?"

"Yes." He put the gun back together, carefully fastening each piece into place.

"I'm not sure how I feel about you saying that to me."

He was finished with the gun. "I just love you, Naia. It doesn't make one bit of a difference to me whether you like that or not. I love you."

His hair was tied back in a neat ponytail, but a few wayward strands still framed his face. His cheeks were slightly flushed from the time he spent in the sun, giving him a warm glow. This was a complete contrast to the pale blue color of his eyes, which seemed to be pleading with her today. "Be kind to him," they said. "He doesn't know what you want, but he is sincere." She wanted to kiss his sun chapped lips. And so, she walked over to him and took his face in her hands.

"If I let myself love you," she told him, "I am afraid that I will follow you to the ends of the Earth to be with you. But I don't think that's what you want."

He kissed her softly, wrapping his arms around her waist. "You have the right to do what you think is right. I won't stop you."

A week later, she flew back to Egypt.

* * *

"Has anyone noticed that Eliot's been looking very sad ever since he got back from his vacation?" Sophie asked no one in particular as she sat down in front of Hardison's TVs.

Parker popped a Kix into her mouth and shrugged her shoulders. "He always looks gloomy to me. It's his natural Eliotness."

"Nate, back me up on this. I'm right, aren't I?"

Nate looked down in his cup of tea, pretending to be too preoccupied to listen to the conversation.

"Naate, come on."

"I really don't think it's any of our business."

"Well of course it isn't. But that doesn't mean we shouldn't do anything about it! We aren't in the business of staying out of other people's business."

Hardison pressed a few keys on his keyboard. "She has a point, you know."

"There isn't anything we can do, anyway. Well first I should remind all of you that Eliot is always gloomy after his vacations. This has been an issue for some time. But, like I said, there's nothing we can do. He hasn't talked to this girl in nearly two years now, she's in a relationship with a man she seems to love very much and Eliot is in limbo. I think he's working on getting over her."

"I am over her," Eliot piped in from the front door. "I've been over her for a very long time. But thanks for the concern." He plopped down on the couch next to Sophie. "What's on the menu for today, Hardison?"

Hardison checked his phone. "Uhh, let me see..."

"You've vacationed in Cairo at least three times in the past two years, Eliot."

Everyone turned to Nate. Eliot raised an eyebrow. "You had me followed?"

"All I had to do was trace your passport. You'd be surprised what kinds of information the government keeps on its citizens."

"Wait, but how did you know which passport I was using?"

"I have my ways. But that's not the point here. You are not over her and you can't lie your way out of that one. However," Nate said as he put down his tea, "if you asked me I would tell you that you should move on with your life."

"You're in no position to tell anyone that they should move on, you know," Eliot reminded him.

"I know, I know. But that doesn't mean I'm not right."

Hardison cleared his throat from across the room. "Anyone interested in our next assignment? Anyone?"

"Me, kind of," Parker offered.

"Alright everyone, may I have your attention please." The screens came to life and right in the center there was a big picture of a man in his 70's, with white hair and a neatly groomed same color beard. He had kind, dark blue eyes and he was looking straight at the camera as the picture was taken. "His name is Donal Moore and he's a very wealthy, private collector. Recently he's entered some sort of end of his life crisis or some such thing and he's decided to donate his pieces to various museums around the world. That's all nice and dandy but some of his stuff wasn't acquired by completely honest means This piece in particular," he said as a picture of a small, stone sphinx of what looked like an Egyptian pharaoh came on the screen, "actually belongs to Keyra and Imam Isa. Imam's parents were immigrants from Egypt and the Pharaoh's Sphinx was a family heirloom they brought back with them. They were robbed one night and the piece disappeared. My guess is that it was sold on the black market. According to Imam, this is the first they've heard of the sculpture in over twenty years."

"How do we know they are telling the truth?" Sophie asked.

"I met with them a few days ago," Nate answered, "And they showed me the ownership papers. Apparently Imam's parents were smart enough to have the piece authenticated by the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York. They showed me the certificate to prove it."

"You met with clients and you didn't tell me?"

"Well, Soph, given the subject matter here, I thought it would be best."

"So how are we supposed to help them?" Eliot asked.

"Well, most of Donal's pieces come from Irish history so he's giving them to various museums throughout Ireland. I know for sure he's giving the sphinx to a foreign museum but I haven't yet been able to figure out which." Hardison said. "What I do know is that he's expecting a curator to pick up the piece in person sometime next week."

"So all we have to do is detain this curator and one of us will go in his place." Parker added.

"Exactly."

Eliot considered it for a moment. "Should be easy enough."

* * *

"So how long will you be in Ireland?" Adam asked Naia over breakfast. Her plane left that afternoon.

"A week at the most," she said as she bit into a piece of toast. "It should be easy. Ancient stone is hard to fake."

* * *

Eliot frowned at the cloudy, thunderous sky. The old collector seemed to live in the most remote part of the country, where absolutely nothing worked and it rained constantly. Eliot hated the rain. It made everything complicated.

He pulled up in front of the small inn the curator was supposed to be staying at. Hardison had been able to find some last minute details about who it was. Her name was Jaqueline Marcais from the Louvre museum in Paris. She had rented a red Mini Cooper a few hours ago from the airport in Dublin.

She had a meeting tomorrow with Donal, so Eliot's role was simple. Keep her busy until then, preferably by being nice. Use force if need be. A more extended kidnapping would probably be necessary since, according to Sophie, art deals don't just close in a day. Eliot could manage that. He was glad it was really this simple. As good as he was at fighting people off, it was always nice when he didn't have to use violence.

From the car he took a careful surveillance of the front of the inn. It was a large, three storied house with an attractive, arched entrance. The entire property was surrounded by tall ash trees and shrubbery, which would provide very nice cover if he needed to sneak Jaqueline out from the back.

He checked his time. She was due to arrive any minute. The plan was for him to walk inside with her at the same time. He was supposed to make himself pleasant and charming, work his way to a conversation with her. Once inside, he would pretend to have lost the key to the room Hardison had booked him, and that way he would get to spend some extra time with her at the check-in desk. All of this would lead to him asking her if he could have dinner with her at the inn, seeing as how they were two lonely strangers in a new place. Hardison did not get a real background check on the girl, but the odds were good that she would come alone.

If Eliot played his cards right, he would at least get invited to her room for a nightcap. He knew that if this was any other kind of job, he wouldn't bother with the hassle of the dinner and all of that. It wasn't much of a challenge to just sneak into the room once she was alone and make sure she never came out. But it was a little bit more ethical to gain her trust and get invited in first - maybe even make her miss the appointment the nice way. That all depended on her, of course.

Another thing he liked about this approach was that he did not need to wear the earpiece. He could be himself without having to worry about everyone listening in on his every word.

He smiled when he saw the red Cooper pull up in the driveway. He killed the engine of his car and got out, pretending to look like he had just arrived too.

* * *

Naia held down the shift pedal and put the car in Park. The rain had stopped for now, but the gray clouds threatened to bring on more. The inn didn't exactly seem to be the most popular lodging place in the country but it felt reassuring to see someone else just arriving too. She got out of the car and walked around to the trunk to pick up her bag.

"Howdy," she heard the stranger call out from across the lot.

Eliot didn't recognize her at first. All he saw was an attractive brunette walk out of the car. Her hair was shorter than he remembered. She was also wearing warm clothes, which was probably another reason why she looked like a stranger to him at first. In that moment, he realized everything at once. Hardison had been wrong about the Jaqueline girl. It was Naia that he had to keep from missing the appointment. It was Naia who he had to effectively kidnap. And it was Naia who still had his heart in the palm of her hand.

She flung her bag around her shoulder and waved without looking at the stranger. She locked the car and started to walk to the front door when she noticed something odd. He hadn't moved.

She turned, sensing danger. Boots, jeans, plaid, jacket, long hair, blue-now-gray eyes. That scar on the left side of his upper lip. Eliot. Her Eliot. There was no thought involved as she dropped her bags and ran, crashing into him. All she knew was that she had missed him so much it hurt and for a long time she had hated herself for being the kind of person who left people for stupid reasons. She put her arms around him and held on tight. Her fingers ran through his hair, her mouth pressed itself to his, she parted her lips so she could have just another taste of him. He smelled of rental car and pub, but she didn't care. His stubble scratched her chin but she wanted more, even if her skin would give her hell for this later.

She grabbed as much as she could of him, in a desperate frenzy to make up for the past two years. He let her do it all, right there in the parking lot. He was vaguely aware of other cars passing by and people walking on the street. He completely ignored the buzzing of his phone as Hardison was checking in to get his status update on the situation. All he knew was that she was in his arms and for right now, right this moment, it was all he needed to know.

Her lips were red and full as she finally stepped back, her arms going around his waist so she could be face to face with him. Well as face to face with someone who's a few inches shorter than you as you can be. "What are you doing here?" she breathed out, her dark eyes sparkling with happiness.

Eliot realized that he had never hated himself more than he did at that moment as he stared into those beautiful chocolate eyes and know that he would have to take away that happiness. "I'm here on a job."

"What kind of job?" she asked as she kissed him again, taking her time now, savoring the feel of those chapped lips against her own.

"You are the job."

He waited. Confusion began to cloud her happiness, slowly being taken over by doubt and finally by the ultimate realization.

She took a few steps back now, breaking contact with him. "Shit." Was it just him, or did her American seem to have a funny accent to it? "Shit, shit, shit. Who the hell are you, Eliot?"

"I'm not here to hurt you, sweetie."

"Don't you sweetie me, you asshole. What do you want?"

"Listen, I mean it. My team and I, we're here for the same thing you are. Donal Moore's sculpture."

She picked up her bags as she backed up further to the same spot she had run from. "What do you mean?"

"The sphinx belongs to a family in Boston. It was stolen from them years ago and now that they know Donal has it, they want it back. We're here to help them out with that. I also had no idea that you'd be here, really, I didn't." He took a few steps towards her, arms outstretched. "I'm really sorry it had to be you."

"If you had known, would it have made a difference. Would that have stopped you from going through with this?"

The question stopped him, holding him still. He searched her eyes for what he had seen earlier in them, the happiness they held as they looked at him, but all he saw were tears.

"Silence. Perfect. Well you and your team can go screw yourselves. I'm taking the sphinx back to Egypt and there's little you can do to stop me." Of course she knew better than to believe her own words, but she had to hand it to him. He did not say a word as she walked away, wiping her tears.

She didn't remember anything about checking in or asking for a key or even getting to her room for that matter. All she cared about as she crawled under the covers fully clothed was that sleep would make this nightmare disappear. It had to.

When she woke up the next morning, there were actual rays of sun coming through the floor length windows. She stretched a little to get her blood flowing and the first thing she noticed was that she didn't have as many clothes on as she did when she went to bed. She was in her undies and a t-shirt that didn't feel like her own. The next thing she noticed was that a warm trickle of air filtered through the fingers of her right hand.

Her first instinct was to move her hand away but in that same instant she knew whose breath it was. She had woken up to it many times before once upon a time. Slowly, she turned on her side.

Eliot was sound asleep in her bed with a pillow between his head and his arm, making him look as if he had watched her during the night.

The buzz of a phone interrupted her thoughts. The sound came from the little table by Eliot's side. She knew from experience that there was a lot he could sleep through if he set his mind to it, so she had no qualms as she reached across him and grabbed his phone.

There was a text message and several missed calls from someone called Big Nerd. _Eliot, stop it with the stupidness and pick up your damn earpiece. We need to talk. Make sure she misses that appointment! _Read the message.

"Morning," said a groggy voice besides her, "Having fun with that?"

"Who's Big Nerd?"

"No one you need to worry about."

"So are you going go tell me who you are?"

"I told you who I am and what I do. I and a few friends of mine are here to help out a family in Boston get back what belongs to them."

"By stealing it," Naia completed his explanation.

"If there was any other way..."

"Alright," she said decisively, getting out of bed. "I have a meeting at noon with the collector to begin the acquisition process. I need to get ready. What time is it?"

"You're not going to that meeting."

"What do you mean?"

"I can't let you go."

"How exactly do you plan on stopping me?"

"Ideally I'd like to make you understand that the sculpture does not belong to Donal Moore or to your museum. It belongs to the Isa family in Boston." He sat up on the bed. "If that's not gonna happen, then I might just tie you up, bubba."

"There are ways they can claim the sculpture from the museum legally. I would not have a problem giving it up that way if they can prove it really belongs to them. Have you ever thought of that? You really don't need to do this."

"They don't have that kind of money. They can't afford to go through all of that. And we both know how things work in Egypt, or anywhere else in the world. Just because you can prove that you legally own something, it doesn't mean people will just give it to you."

"I'm sorry Eliot, but I'm not going to just let you stop me. You're going to have to give it your best." She picked up her jeans from the floor and put them on. She was vaguely aware of the fact that she was still wearing one of his shirts.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Running away from you. I need to warn Donal." She headed for the door.

Eliot took hold of her arm before she could even notice that he had gotten out of bed. "Stop," he whispered.

"Do you remember that thing you taught me?"

There was no time to wait for a response as her left fist collided with his throat and she dug her right knee into his crotch. There was little chance that her plan would actually work but she grabbed her purse and ran out of the room.

Thankfully there was no one around as she skipped down the one flight of stairs to get to the ground floor. She could hear Eliot right behind her but she didn't care. She had to try.

Instead of going straight for the front door, she hurried over to the left and entered the restaurant part of the inn. A few of the guests were enjoying breakfast but she ignored them as she fled over to the kitchen door. She looked for any other door besides the one she had just come through.

She spotted her exit across the room and refused to listen to the complaining voices as she speed walked the distance to the door. She had lost track of Eliot in the bustle of the dining room and the kitchen so she focused on what was in front. At the moment, all she could see were trees, some shrubbery and an alley that led to the main street. This was probably the service entrance for the entire inn staff.

There was only way she could go, so she ducked into the shrubbery. It was dense enough to provide camouflage but it was too quiet outside for him not to notice if she tried to make a run for it on either side. She stopped for a moment, ran a hand through her hair, and looked around.

She could see a small, pretty garden to her left, where the bushes stopped and the flowers began. To her right, about two hundred feed further was the road. Neither option was any good. Behind her was a tall, woodden fence. She followed it quietly for a few feet until she found what she was looking for - a miracle. There was a gap where a few consecutive planks had been torn off, almost as if for the express purpose of sneaking around behind the bushes. Naia didn't think twice as she passed through the narrow space.

The other side of the fence was definitely someone's private property, but there were more bushes there and tall grass, so she followed the planks, now to her right, away from the street. Eventually she found the corner of the yard so she followed this side to the next house. The same tall fence seemed to surround the entire yard and this time, there were no gaps that she could find. There was, however, a small tree whose branches reached over the fence.

Naia had never climbed a tree before. She had hopped fences once or twice, but this was new territory. She considered going back around where she had come from. After all, what was so bad about being imprisoned by the best lover she had ever had? But this was a matter or principle and pride, so she hold onto her purse and grabbed onto the branches that she could reach.

The fall on the other side of the fence wasn't as graceful as she had imagined. There were no severe aches as she picked herself up off the grassy ground and ducked behind the house. Now that she had at least one other property between her and the inn, she let herself relax a little.

Her purse began to buzz so she quickly dug a hand in it, fishing for the little phone. It was her alarm clock, announcing her 10 am wake-up call. She noticed that her roaming features gave her a few bars of signal, so she did exactly what she had promised she would do. She looked around in her address book for Donal Moore's phone number and dialed it.

Someone picked up after a few rings. "'ello."

"Mr. Moore -" before she could continue, she heard the radio signal beeps that phones make whenever lines disconnect and then there was silence.

A few seconds passed before she heard some new sounds, ones that did not sound like phone beeps at all. They closely resembled dial-up modem signals. "Ms Goulas, hello, hello." Said a voice from her phone, and it did not sound Irish in any way. "How are you today?"

"Who is this?" she asked, for the first time aware of the seriousness of Eliot's claims that there were people out there who fully intended to steal the sphinx sculpture. In that split second she recalled a technology lecture she had attended at the Cairo University. The event had been sponsored by the firm Adam worked for. _"What all of us should be aware of today," the speaker had said, "Is that any modern piece of technology has the capability to effectively steal our privacy. They can reveal things about us that even we don't know, such as how many minutes we spend on conversations with whom, from where and to where, our location and how much we spend in any one place -"_

That was it. _Location_. Her phone was a perfect tracking device. Without thinking twice about it she pressed her lips to the small screen, knowing she would never see her tiny friend again. She put her index finger on one of its corners and threw it back toward the yard she had just come from. If the guy she had just spoken to was smart enough to intercept her call as she was making it, he was smart enough to user her phone to track her.

Now she had to come up with a new plan. She ran over to the next house and climbed the stairs to the front door, praying that someone was home.

A woman about her age with a small child in her arms answered the door. "Top of the morning. How can I help you?"

Naia made up a story about being a little lost and having to make a phone call. As the woman showed her inside she looked through her purse for the letter Donal had sent to the museum. He had noted his address and phone number in it.

She tried to make her hands stop shaking as she punched in the numbers in the land line phone. "'ello," she heard Donal's now familiar voice.

"Mr Moore, it's Naia Goulas from the Museum at Giza in Egypt." She breathed out, waiting for the line to disconnect at any moment.

"Ms Goulas, glad to hear from you. Are we still meeting at noon today?"

"Mr Moore, listen carefully. There are some people here who intend to steal your sculpture. They tried to kidnap me today but I was able to escape for long enough to warn you. Please call the police - " She heard the disconnect lines again and instantly put the phone down.

She thanked the woman who had let her in and nearly ran out of the house.

* * *

"Seriously man, this chick is like kryptonite for you. How is it possible that she - "

"Hardison, now's really not the time." Eliot grunted as he put the car in reverse and backed out of the parking lot. After searching the ground for Naia and failing to find even a trace, he contacted Hardison and the team to update them on the situation. He had also put the earpiece back on.

"Oh oh, I see how it's gonna be. Alright, that's cool. Ok so listen, her last call was made from a land line about 200 yards from the the inn. Sophie's not happy that she got through to the old man, but she says she can still work around it. I still don't get how this -"

"Alright, thanks." He took out the earpiece and stuffed it in the glove box, parking the car 3 houses down from the inn. He knew there was no point in knocking on the door and searching for her inside. She wouldn't have stayed inside, but he guessed that she wasn't far.

Naia watched him from across the street. She was hidden behind a small shed. The pounding of her heart was loud in her ears and even her breath seemed like it would give her away any. He got out of the car and closed the door but he stayed put. She had hoped he would go inside the house and look for her there. Damn him. And damn him for looking so good in blue jeans and a plain black t-shirt. The fact that he was her enemy right now did nothing to stop her from wanting him. Or from wondering if he still loved her.

It took her a while but eventually she figured out that he was just waiting for her to do something stupid, like try to run. Problem was, there was nowhere she could go but up or down the street. She wasn't too confident that she could outrun him on flat and even terrain.

"Why hello, you," she heard a female voice behind her. "We finally meet, I'm Parker. You're Naia, I know. You're like a legend to us, really, you are."

Naia had no idea what to make of the perky blonde who had appeared out of nowhere, but suddenly it felt like she was glued to the ground. There was nowhere to go now.

"Parker." Eliot breathed out, giving the blonde a mean stare.

"Do you want to take her to the car, or should I?" she quipped.

"I'm sure she can walk there on her own. Naia?"

She made sure to maintain eye contact as she started walking to the car, letting him know just how much she disliked him right now.

The two of them went back to the inn together. Eliot was going to be her babysitter for the next couple of days.

* * *

Exactly seven days after her arrival in Ireland, Naia was on a plane back to Cairo, sculpture-free. She didn't know how Eliot's team pulled off the scam and she didn't care to know. She told the administration board at the museum that Donal had changed his mind. The truth would have been much more ludicrous than that.

Adam welcomed her back with open arms, but it wasn't the same for her anymore. Eliot had disturbed the dusty peace that had settled around her heart while she was with Adam. It didn't feel the same as she held him in her arms now. There was no spark there. He didn't feel so right anymore.

She knew that the one who did feel right was unattainable. The things she had with Eliot were pure perfection. But Eliot was unavailable. It wasn't the physical distance that bothered her. It was his instability. He was as unpredictable as a hurricane - you know when it comes at you but you never know for certain what will happen after. That quality made him toxic. Perhaps it is attractive, but in the end it will always burn.

Naia had no choice but to part ways with Adam. Three months later she moved into an apartment that did not remind her of him. Everything was going well and her life was on track until a man with a cowboy hat and button down with blue jeans showed up at her doorstep.

"I missed you," he said from the doorway.

"I really don't think you should have come here," she told him. The statement sounded false to her own ears. "Please leave."

"I would, if I really thought that's what you want."

"It is. Eliot, what are you doing at my door?"

"I wanted to see you. And to tell you that I can't live without you. I've tried, " he said, putting his arms up, "But I can't. It's just not going to happen."

"That's a bit of a problem. You can't live with me, either."

He frowned a little, his bottom lip turning into an unconscious pout. "You don't know that."

"Come on Eliot, don't do this. You live in Texas or Boston or Cambodia or wherever. You and me, it's just not going to happen."

"I don't live anywhere, at the moment, if that's what you're concerned about. Can I come in?"

She let him inside, only because she was worried about her neighbors overhearing. He brought with him a large suitcase. An object like that, one that implied the intention to have an extended stay somewhere looked all wrong on Eliot.

"So who are you?" she asked.

"I am the man who's going to live with you and love you and share a life with you. My occupation requires travel and I hope you can accept that. You may not always know where I am or what I'm doing, but for as long as my heart beats, you are all I will think about."

She had a kitchen towel in her hand that she had been using to dry off some dishes. She played with it while she stared at him. He wasn't offering much but it felt like he was giving her the world.

"Eliot, two years ago you let me leave. You told me you loved me and then you let me go. Who does that?"

He was silent for a while. "I'm sorry. I didn't know what else to do."

"You could've told me the truth about who you are, what you do. I would've understood!"

"Would you? Really? I'm not so sure."

"I'll admit, I left out of pride more than anything else. But it broke my heart into a million pieces. I don't want to have you and then lose you like that all over again." She put the towel back in the kitchen, where it belonged.

Eliot cupped the back of her head with one hand and wrapped his other arm around her waist. "I can't promise that you won't wake up one day and know that you will never see me again."

Almost unconsciously she put her arms around him. Without him having to tell her she knew he was talking about the possibility of the job getting him killed one day. That scared her. She wasn't sure she wanted to acknowledge the fact that it was possible for a world to exist without him in it. The thought alone made her want to hold on tight to him.

"I know I'm asking a lot," he began, "A life with me will be full of unknowns. But I like myself when I'm with you and I've never had that with anyone."

His crystal blue eyes did not plead this time. His mouth didn't pout and his hands didn't caress as he waited for a response. She could feel his warm breath on her cheeks. There was a bit of a stubble on his chin and upper lip, meaning he had probably been on a very long flight. The light scent of cologne he wore, the one she knew so well, brought back a memory or two from their two months in Texas. It was so tempting to surrender.

The End


End file.
